Dirus
by FallingoverFeelz
Summary: Dean wakes up one morning after a night of heavy drinking at a local pub, and now he can't tell anything but the truth. Wincest!
1. Chapter 1

**OKAY SO IM WRITING WINCEST****. **

**Guilty as charged. **

**BUT HEY. It's hot. At least to me. Stop judging my muse, it can't control itself. **

**This will be like, a 2-shot, probably. Unless my muse goes on and make it into something bigger like it usually does. But for right now, it's a two shot. **

**M because of the second chapter. Which I have yet to write. :)**

**Enjoy!**

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"Fuck." Dean said, pulling the dagger from the lifeless body. Blood was splattered across his form, soaking in his shirt and jacket. It was spotted across his face, covering some of the freckles. He was knelt over the djinn's form; it's now cold eyes staring into his. He grimaced and wiped the blood off on the man's shirt, looking up at Sam.

"That everyone?" He asked, getting up and dusting himself off. Sam looked around, hair swaying around his face as he walked through the warehouse, peeking into hidden crevices and corners. Soon enough though, he came back to stand next to Dean, his tall form overwhelming him.

"Yeah. That's it."

Dean nodded. "Good." He said, eyes glancing over at the two dead innocents lying on the floor, bodies limp and emaciated, dried blood crusted in the corner of their lips. Their skin was dry and yellowy, veins visible beneath the surface, eyes bloody and cold.

"Poor bastards." Dean said, looking up to Sam. "C'mon. Let's go celebrate."

"Celebrate?" Sam asked as he followed Dean from the warehouse, walking underneath the starry sky. Sam tightened his jacket around him, breath coming from his lips in a warm puff of air that disappeared in a wisp. The moon was bright, shining down on the Impala with an ethereal glow. Dean smiled, going to the other side of the car, running a hand over the roof, smiling.

"God she's beautiful." Dean said. He grinned, eyes twinkling. The moonlight splayed nicely over him, pale skin flowing. His lips were a pale shade of pink, green eyes bright.

For a moment, Sam was mesmerized. Under this moonlight, Dean transformed from his already attractive self into an ethereal beauty.

OK, what? Sam thought his brother was hot. Big deal- it had been happening since he was 13. At first, he had been disgusted by the thought, but as he grew older, as time passed, he found himself more comfortable with the fact. Nothing else had ever been normal in their life, from the ghosts and werewolves to sleeping with demons- it had all transcended beyond the "normal" society rules. So when Sam found himself jerking it to the thought of his brother's naked form against his, moaning underneath him, calling out his name- it was no big deal.

So Sam admitted that he found his brother beyond gorgeous, beautiful in a way that he couldn't really compare to anyone else- he was unlike any female, the hard sinewy muscles much too alluring to be girly, but beautiful in a way no girl could compare.

"Dude, you okay?" Dean asked, eyes narrow. His lips were slightly parted, a pink tongue dashed out to wet them. Sam's eyes followed the movement, and then flicked up to meet Dean's gaze. He swallowed- his throat had gone dry.

"Yeah. Yeah, man. I'm good." He said, nodding. Dean didn't look like he believed him, but he grinned and nodded, a mischievous look appearing in his eyes.

"Good. Cuz the last person that looked at me like that got laid." He said, winking before he got into the car. Sam's eyes went wide before he followed suit.

"So. You wanted to celebrate?" Sam asked tightly, watching Dean start the car.

"Yeah. I was thinking maybe we get some strippers and booze. Ya know, regular celebration, the whole sha-bang." Dean said, smirking as he looked over to his younger brother, whose eyes had widened, lips taut. Dean narrowed his eyes.

"Dude chill. I was kiddin'." He said. "There's a pub near the motel. We'll chill, drink some beer, play some pool. It'll be good."

Sam relaxed, swallowed and nodded. "Cool. That's… cool."

Dean nodded, gave Sam a look, and drove off.

**XOoOX**

The bar was crowded, but not overly so. There was a pleasant hum of chatter that floated through the air. They leaned against the pool table they currently occupied, Dean watched as Sam leaned over the table, lining up his shot. The bottom of his shirt rose up as he stretched, Dean's eyes flicking to the skin there. The waistband of his underwear peeked above his jeans, the beginning of the v-cut dripping below the material. His eyes lingered for a moment longer than he wanted to. Sam moved his arm back and hit the ball into the pocket, coming to stand back up with a sigh. Dean watched as Sam rolled his shoulders, muscles flexing under the flannel he loved to wear. His gaze traveled upward, scanning his strong jaw line, hints of stubble peppered across, up to those soft dewy eyes he got lost in so frequently. Those eyes that could tell so much with just a gaze, those eyes that saw right through him and could break him down without even trying. His fingers twitched around his pool cue as he yearned to run his fingers through the silky strands that hung from his brother's head. How many times had he imaged running his hands through those velvet locks? How many times had he fantasized about pulling at that hair as Sam lay over him, muscles sliding against his body in an overwhelming way that drove him in-

"Dean?" he heard a voice ask. He snapped out of his reverie and was faced witht eh vision of his brother's unfortunately clothed chest. He ran his eyes up to meet Sam's gaze, which held a mixture of confusion and worry.

God Sam was fucking _huge_.

And damn him if that wasn't a _huge_ turn on.

"What's up?" He asked, voice tight and dry. He swallowed, licked his lips, shaking the perverted thoughts from his mind. Sam was his brother, those thoughts were supposed to be disgusting- but that was the problem, wasn't it?

They weren't.

"You alright, man?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes. Dean smirked.

"I'm cool man, just thinking about how _you_," He said, accentuating the statement with a poke to the chest- which reminded him of how built Sam was, all those huge muscles sliding over him "-are gonna get your ass kicked." He stated brokenly, walking to the other side of the pool table. He grabbed his beer and took a swig, eyeing it with a slight frown when he found it almost empty. He looked around the room, eyes scanning for the blonde waitress that had been eyeing him all night. He finally found her, serving a group of overly rowdy men at a table across the bar, and sure enough she was smirking at him. He waved her over with a smile, peering into her blue eyes as she sauntered over. She flashed a toothy grin.

"Somethin' I can do for you?" She asked. Dean chuckled, eyes falling to the heart tattoo on her left shoulder.

"Well, there's a lot of things you can do for me sweetheart," he said, leaning in closer. "But for now two beers will be good."

The slim girl rolled her eyes in flirtatious annoyance and turned around, long hair whipping behind her.

"Something's off about her." Sam said from behind him. Dean jumped a little and turned around, finding Sam standing directly behind him, looking over his shoulder. His heart quickened with the proximity.

"What could possibly be wrong with _that_?" He asked, but Sam looked convinced.

"Didn't feel right." Sam said tersely, eyes locked onto the girl's invisible trail. Dean scoffed.

"Well, let me do my thing and _something_ will feel right, if you kn-" Dean looked at Sam, who had his bitchface firmly in place. Dean rolled his eyes. "Geez. Take a joke."

The girl strutted back, two cold beers in hand. She put them on the edge of the pool table, putting her hand on her hip and looked into Dean's eyes.

"This good enough?" She asked, smiling. Dean grinned and leaned over her, grabbing the beers and coming closer to her face.

"We'll just have to wait and see." He said, smiling. She grinned back and raised her hand, lightly touching his exposed bicep. Dean grinned at the contact, smiling as she stood and left. He turned to Sam with a grin.

"Dude. She's totally into me."

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "C'mon man. Your turn."

**XOoOX**

"Dean. This is pathetic." Sam said, watching Dean stumble across the blacktop, tripping over his own feet. He kept toppling over as he struggled to walk to the Impala, Sam straggling behind and watching him in amusement.

"Sshuddup, Sammy." Dean slurred, finally reaching the car. He overdramatically collapsed on the hood, running his hand over the cool metal. "Baby I missed you."

Sam rolled his eyes. He walked over to his intoxicated brother. "You shouldn't have had all those beers, Dean."

"I 'ad like, two!" He said, voice muffled against the car.

"You had like seven." Sam replied. "That waitress kept bringing them to you."

"Shwas hot…"

"She was bad news, Dean! Something was definitely up with her." Sam said. He waited a few moments, but received no response. He rolled his eyes. "Dude, you are _not_ sleeping on the car. Give me the keys." He grabbed Dean by the arm and pulled him up to his feet. The shorter man stumbled a bit, but eventually face planted into Sam's chest. He let out a content sigh and burrowed his face into Sam's shirt.

"So warm, Sam…" Dean trailed off. Sam's body went tense with the contact, mouth dry with the comment.

"Dean, give me the keys." Sam said tightly. Dean responded by wrapping his arms around Sam's middle, pulling them closer. Sam's heart was beating faster- he had to stop this.

"Pocket. I want ya ta dig for em, big boy." Dean chuckled out; face still pressed into Sam's chest. Sam took a deep breath and found the pocket in Dean's jeans. He slid his fingers in.

"Careful Sammy, might be a little 'xcited ta see ya." Dean laughed out, form shaking against Sam's form in mirth. Sam's hand stopped its exploration for a moment, but he continued on with the strong desire to get back to a bed. And plus, that was probably the alcohol talking. He finally found the keys and hurriedly pulled them out. He unwrapped Dean and led him to the passenger side, pushing him into the seat.

"Whoah, careful there Sammy. I like it rough." Dean burst into a loud laughter to which Sam ignored and hopped into the driver's side. He sighed, started the ignition, and pulled out of the parking lot.

**XOoOX**

Sam got out of the car, walking over to the passenger side. His brother had fallen asleep on the ride there, a soft snore rising from his form. Sam surveyed the man- Dean looked even more angelic when he slept. His pink lips were slightly parted, eyelashes softly fallen on his cheeks, the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He looked so peaceful, such a contrast to the huge internal war that Sam knew was always happening. The only time he ever saw Dean like this was when he was sleeping or right after he came home from getting laid- and for once Sam wanted to be the cause of his relaxation.

He sighed and bent down, putting his arm behind Deans back and into between the bend of his knees, and lifted. He carried Dean bridal style form the car and kicked the door shut with his foot. Dean snuggled in closer in his slumber, seeking more of Sam's warmth. It Dean kept doing that they were going to have a _serious_ problem. When he reached the door it took a few moments of skillful maneuvering to unlock it, but eventually he opened it to their two bedroom motel. Sam watched for Dean's head as he entered, flicked on the lights with his shoulder, and carried his brother to his bed. He laid him down softly then sat down next to him. He debated his next plan of action, and came to the verdict that his next actions were a _total_ necessity.

He put a hand to the small of Dean's back and rose him up gently so that Dean's head came to rest on his shoulder, puffs of breath hitting the skin on his neck. Sam gulped, carefully removing his jacket, but his fingers met warm skin as Dean's jacket pulled the shirt he was in. he wanted so badly to run his fingers over that soft, smooth skin, to taste it, to lick it, but he restrained himself. Not like this. He sighed and peeled off the remnants of the jacket from his brother's body. He laid down Dean's head against the pillow and went down to his feet to remove his boots. After a moment, Dean shifted in his sleep, curling into himself. Sam admired him from a far, Dean's beauty imprinting in his mind.

He had wanted for so long to have Dean's beauty for himself, to have those gorgeous eyes and smiles, the soft skin, the lithe muscle- all just for him.

But he couldn't.

He sighed looking to the door to the shower and his bed, quickly deciding it was too much trouble to shower now, vowing to do so in the morning. He removed his shoes, socks and jacket, climbing into the bed, turning to face Dean's back. He smiled a small grin, reaching up to turn off the light on the lamp.

He needed a good night's rest.


	2. Chapter 2

**hey guys! **

**so this is the second installment of this story, and lord knows it wont be the last because my muse likes to mess with me.**

**enjoy!**

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There was something scratchy against his skin when he turned, warmth that encompassed him from all sides. He grimaced, turning once more, recognizing the scratchy softness of the cheap motel sheets. He tried to move his legs, but his jeans constricted him. His body felt heavy, and there was a horrible thud that seemed insistent on pounding into his brain. His skin was _too_ warm, and the air he was dragging in through his lungs was raw, gravity seemed so much heavier. He turned around to lie on his back, he felt his heart beating with a slow _thud thud thud_ and grimaced when the sunlight hit his eyes in an obnoxious way, immediately closing them back to the calming darkness.

He heard this sound, this _terrible_ sound that was like a million bricks falling onto the ground and- _God_, the world must have been ending because the sound was so horrible. He covered his ears and gritted his teeth, too confined in his clothes, and his skin too warm and everything around him was _too too much_. He tried to open his eyes again, hands still covering his ears, and this time the sun wasn't as angry as before. He squinted as he took in the room, Sam wasn't in his bed and that sound(_terrible) _was still going and his brain was still thudding and the air in his lungs was so harsh, like it was tearing into him.

It stopped.

That _terrible_ sound stopped. It took him a moment to actually realize it because of the _thud thud_ in his ears but he didn't hear it anymore. He let his hands fall to the bed and swung his legs over the edge, the motion making him dizzy. The floor was spinning as he looked at it, willing his mind to focus and his clothes to stop being so scratchy. He heard a squeak and a few soft-but-heavy footfalls to his right. He looked up, eyes falling on Sam's almost naked form, the only material was a thin towel held loosely around his waist.

Sam was mostly dry, but still had a slight sheen of water over his body. Strands of hair were stuck to his head, drops of water randomly collected over his skin. His gaze fell on one right above Sam's jaw, and he watched as it trailed down, down, down, over Sam's neck and down that unfairly chiseled chest, past a dusty nipple and grazed over those abs that Dean wanted to taste _so_ bad. It reached his navel, narrowly missing the dip as it found the slight trail of hair that created the path that led to the thing that hid under the towel(_so_ not fair) and past the v-cut that was so unfairly teasing, showing itself justly slightly above the hem of the towel.

"-right?" He heard Sam's voice ask, and _damn_ even his voice was attractive. So deep, smooth, like fucking honey in Dean's mind, and _god_ he shouldn't be thinking like that but he _couldn't stop_.

"What?" Dean asked, voice dry and raspy. He looked into Sam's eyes and immediately knew it was a mistake, his breath caught and his skin lit on fire.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked again, looking deeply into Dean's irises. His gaze was full on concern, worry and damn if Dean didn't want to go over and kiss all that anxiety away.

Dean knew he wasn't. Something was _wrong_. Not just his hangover, because that was obvious, but something more than that was a problem. But he couldn't let Sam know that.

"Yeah," Dean said, coughing. "Yeah, I'm fi-"

Something punched him in the gut and he doubled over, eyes shutting in pain. All of a sudden he was on the floor, he felt nauseous and his skin was scratchy, itchy, hot, cold, too tight, and his headache was about to make his head explode. His whole body ached; even his fucking _pores_ were on fire, he clenched his teeth as he curled into himself, a harsh throbbing in his abdomen increasing in intensity every second.

He felt hands on him, on his arm and the back of his neck and the touch cooled him down, brought him back to reality. He heard Sam's voice above him- it was worried and eager, the sound of it eased away the pain he was feeling, ebbed it off with its presence. Slowly his breathing came back under control, and he opened his eyes to see Sam kneeling beside him, the towel he adorned dangerously close to falling off. Dean blushed at the thought, felt a coil of warmth settle in his stomach as he watched Sam's eyes.

"Man, what the hell happened?" Sam asked, hand going to the small of Dean's back to help him up. Dean grunted as he brought himself up and sat against the bed, head falling back. He took a deep breath and felt a presence above him; he looked to find Sam kneeling near him chest so invitingly open. He felt his hand slowly rise from its place on his knee and move towards Sam's body. He tried to fight it, but Sam's form was so open, Dean could just imagine running his fingers over those muscles, through that hair, kissing those lips until he was fucking dizzy, letting Sam wo-

"Dean?" Sam asked. Dean realized after a moment that he probably hadn't spoken since his little debacle on the floor, and he met Sam's gaze once again. He snatched his hand back, but it seemed reluctant to come, almost as if he couldn't control himself. He swallowed and licked his lips.

"What's up, Sammy?" Dean asked, unsure smirk on his lips. He let out a slight laugh that both of them recognized wasn't entirely real. One of Sam's eyes were raised in a way that said _I don't believe any of your bullshit_, and honestly Dean didn't really blame him, but that look should not have been so hot.

All these random bouts of arousal were taking a toll on Dean's libido, and he noticed for the first time that he was hard inside his jeans, cock rubbing uncomfortably against his underwear. He arranged himself awkwardly, moving his hands over his crotch in an attempt to avert Sam's gaze.

"Dean. What the hell happened?" He asked slowly, as if Dean was going crazy.

But then again. Maybe he was.

He was about to lie again when he felt that sickly feeling creep onto his skin, his heart started pounding and his headache got worse for a second.

"I honestly don't know." He burst out. Immediately the pain went away, heart calmed and head back to normal.

"You sure?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I have no idea what happened."

"For a second you looked like you spaced out. Thinkin' bout something?"

"Um. n-" His lungs started to burn, muscles began to ache. He grunted with the onset of the pain, clenching his teeth. "Yeah. Yeah, I was."

The pain went away again.

"About?" Sam asked.

God, enough with the fucking questions Sam.

"Why?" Dean asked defensively, trying his hardest not to lose himself in Sam's eyes. The question wasn't a lie; a question technically _couldn't_ be a lie, so the nausea didn't appear. Sam got up with a huff, towering over Dean in a way that Dean's cock found increasingly enjoyable. It jumped in his pants and he stifled himself.

"Just wanted to know, maybe I could help out." Sam said, going over to his bag and pulling out a t-shirt and jeans. "So. What was on your mind?"

Even though Dean really wasn't in the mood to feel sick again, he couldn't let Sam know what he had been thinking about.

"You." He blurted out against his will. He cursed under his breath and bit his lips- it was getting easier and easier to tell the truth, which was _so_ not okay.

"Me?" Sam asked, looking over at Dean. His eyes were wide, a surprised expression on your face.

"I tend to think about you a lot." Dean said again in a joking tone.

Shit. He didn't want to say that either.

"Really?" Sam asked. He had paused on his way to the bathroom to re-dress himself, so he was still as naked as the day was long and he would have been lying if he said that it wasn't doing anything to him. His thoughts traveled back to last night, even though a lot of it was a blur. There was that gorgeous blonde girl with that tattoo, Sam beat him at pool, and then he just remembered being _really_ warm against Sam's chest.

God that had felt so good, so good to be pressed into his brother's form, the oaky scent of him rising to his senses. He could have stood there forever, snuggling into Sam's rock hard body, wrapping his arm -

"Dean." Sam's voice said. Dean looked up and saw the amused expression on Sam's face again. "You spaced out again man."

"Sorry." Dean said. Sam chuckled and leaned against the bathroom door, arms crossed over his chest.

"What were you thinking about me for?" Sam asked, eyes narrowed.

"You're kinda pretty much naked." Dean said quickly, averting his eyes. Sam seemed to consider it for a moment.

"Is that making you uncomfortable?" He asked, lips taut.

Dean considered it for a moment. If he considered the fact that he was hard as a rock in his jeans, and he could do _nothing_ about it, then yeah, he was uncomfortable.

"Yeah. A bit." Dean said, smiling a little when the nausea didn't hit him. Sam adorned a sad expression on his face, eyes on the floor. He nodded solemnly, pushing the bathroom door open with his shoulder.

"Right," He said. "Sorry. I'll go get dressed." He stepped into the bathroom and closed it behind him.

Dean felt a rush of relief with his brother's absence, but also the familiar coil of anxiety that settled into his stomach. Why had Sam seemed bothered by his confession?

He thought about it for a moment, getting up and stretching. Right now wasn't the time to be thinking about that.

He had to figure out what the fuck was wrong with him.


	3. Chapter 3

**So i know I just updated like, 2 seconds ago, but i got some major Wincest feels and i HAD to write again. **

**Ugh. The struggle. **

**Hope you guys enjoy! :D**

**and by the way i dont remember everything about women in white/ladies in white or whatever so if i get the logistics about them wrong FORGIVE ME, but i definitely don't feel like going back and rearranging everything. So yeah. Sorry again.**

**enjoy! :)**

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Dean lay on his stomach, fingering the edge of a page as his eyes quickly scanned over it. He huffed, biting his bottom lip as he turned the page, giving the next section the same treatment. There was the soft _click-clack_ of a laptop's keyboard a few feet away from him, where Sam sat at his bed, typing away, looking for a lead to their next mystery. There were books scattered all around him, things he had picked up from the local library- books that dealt with mythical beings, spells, but most of all _curses_.

Of the truth variety.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, where he stored things he didn't want to talk about(which was actually a lot) he knew that he had inadvertently been hit by some kind of spell, or curse, or potion, or _whatever_ the fuck it was that was messing with his ability to lie.

Lying was his livelihood for God's sake.

"Find anything?" Sam asked from beside him. Dean looked toward him, a worried knot growing in his stomach. He took a breath.

"No. Not really." Dean answered, relaxing when no wave of nausea overtook him. He look at Sam for a second, watching as he bent over the laptop, eyes scrutinizing whatever was on the screen. He wore one of those loose-yet-too-tight v-neck shirts that clung loosely to his form, showing off every muscle on his body when he moved just the right way. His hair hung slightly, framing his face, and he worried at his bottom lip as his fingers beat an absent rhythm against his leg.

He had always known Sam was a Sasquatch, but he had never truly appreciated it as often as he would have liked to. The boy was huge, unfairly so, and for the life of him Dean found it utterly and incontrovertibly _attractive_.

Hey, maybe he had a kink for being manhandled. Who's to judge?

Definitely not _you_.

He sighed and turned back to his books, trying his hardest to ignore the yearning in his palms to go over and run his hands over his brother's form. Even stranger than the forced truth telling- unless he wanted to end up crawling on the floor like earlier- was that he could barely control himself. Earlier it had taken almost all of his willpower to stop himself from running his fingers through Sam's hair. So many times he had to stop himself from going over and kissing his brother, hell even digging his hands into his pants and _jacking him off_.

His breath quickened with the thought, skin warm and feverish. He so badly wanted Sam to come over and touch him, wanted to be under those huge muscles, have his brother's cock buried so deep inside him that he'd feel it for _days_.

He sighed and turned back to his books. Of course they said everything about _everything_ in the world- from spirits of truth, to truth potions, truth fucking _fairies_ for God's sake, but did it have anything he needed?

Not a chance in hell.

He took a deep breath. This wasn't a big deal. No problem. He didn't lie _that_ much did he? He could handle it for what, a few days? This had to wear off eventually, no problem.

He could do this.

"Dean. I think I got something." Sam said from beside him. He heard a light rustle and felt a few of the books next to him shift away or fall to the floor. A weight settled onto the bed next to him, and soon enough Sam's form was close to his, warmth radiating from him. He lowered the laptop close to Dean's face, bringing his own down next to his. Warm breath ghosted over Dean's cheeks, wisps of Sam's hair brushing over his skin. He took in a gasp of air, he froze, shivers running over his skin. He closed his eyes, relishing in Sam's proximity. Sam lay down next to him, side brushing against his.

Was all this closeness really necessary to show him something?

"Look." Sam said. _God_ even his voice was a turn on, so deep, smooth, like honey. Sam was pointing out an article on the screen. Dean sighed and opened his eyes, scanning over the article. It said something about a few people disappearing on a lesser known road, one of which was a 20-something year old male a few nights ago.

"So what? Haunted road?" Dean asked, voice a little shaky.

"Keep reading." Sam said

Dean did as instructed, eyes flickering over the rest of the article. Something popped out that spoke about a few people that had seen a woman near the road, decked out in a wedding dress, pure white.

"So woman in white?"

"I think so." Sam said, looking at him. His chocolate brown eyes had a hint of pride, his smile spread over his cheeks, hair falling goofily into his face. "It makes sense, right? People who had let her into their car didn't survive to tell the tale. I'm sure if we dig through the records we can find some woman who had some wrong done to her. This has probably been going on longer than we know."

Dean smiled, relishing in Sam's happiness. "Good job, Sammy."

Sam laughed and got up, going over to his bed. "So I figure we grab an early lunch then head out to deal with this? Stop by the library, scour a few sources?"

He watched regretfully as Sam threw on one of his button-ups, covering those delicious muscles that Dean wanted to stare at for just a few minutes more. When he shifted, he found himself hard in his pants, cock rubbing against his underwear and creating a delicious friction that he wanted to relieve _right now_.

"Yeah. Sounds like a plan." He said, running his hands though his hair as he willed it to go down.

He was so fucked.

**XOoOX**

Something was up with Dean.

They sat in a booth at the local diner they had found. Dean was digging into his hamburger, but not with the usual mirth had had whenever beef was presented in front of him. He seemed distracted, his eyes kept averting every which way every few seconds- especially to Sam. Ever since that little debacle that morning, had had been acting rather strange- he was shivering a lot, avoiding Sam's presence as much as possible, acting rather suspicious all in all.

And what was with that morning anyway? One moment Dean was talking and the next he was lying on the floor- in more pain that Sam had seen in months. And since when did Sam's nudity bother him so much? They had been naked in front of each other before, granted it wasn't really a regular thing, but it wasn't something that had never happened.

And honestly the fact that his nudity had made Dean uncomfortable was… saddening. But whatever. Something more serious was wrong with his brother.

"You gonna eat?" Dean asked around a mouthful of fries, eyes wide. Sam took in the expression and chuckled.

"Yeah." Sam said, taking a bite of his sandwich. Dean nodded and continued his assault on his plate. Sam took a sip of his sprite and another bite of his sandwich before speaking.

"Dean. What's wrong?"

Dean looked up, confused at the question. "Wha?" He asked, word garbled by the food in his mouth.

"You've been acting stranger than usual." Sam said, brow raised.

"Are you implying that I'm usually strange?"

"That's hardly the point. Just answer the question."

"Sam. Noth-" Dean cut himself off. Sam saw his brothers eyes go wide and he lurched forward a bit, as if he was about to throw up. "Okay. _Fuck_, yes, Sam, something's wrong."

The confession seemed to cure whatever was ailing him before because as soon as the words had left his lips, Dean immediately relaxed back into the seat, taking a breath.

"Um. Okay. Well, first of all, what is that? Do you have the flu or something? We can get you something-"

"No, it's not… the flu."

"Do _you_ know what it is?" Sam asked, worry starting to coil in his chest. Dean was keeping something from him, and they had already had this talk about how Sam _wasn't_ a kid anymore, and he could handle whatever secrets Dean thought too important to tell him. He could tell Dean was getting frustrated- he was biting his lip and his skin was turning a bright shade of red. His hands were clenched on the top of the table, as if he was holding something back.

"No. I have no clue what the hell it is."

"Can you explain it to me then?"

"Sam, can you _please_ stop asking questions?" Dean asked, a pitiful look on his face.

"Why? I just wanna help, Dean." Sam said, leaning closer to his brother. There was this crazed look in his eyes, as if something uncontrollable was working in Dean's mind.

"_Because_ Sam," Dean started. "Questions right now? They are just a huge… No. No. No. No. Okay?"

"Why?" Sam asked. He was getting annoyed of his brother's aversion tactics, and it was bothering him beyond reason.

"It would just really help if you didn't." Dean said, staring into Sam's eyes with a determination Sam didn't have the energy to fight.

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. You win. But this is _not_ the end of this, okay?"

**XOoOX**

"Got it." Dean said, looking over at Sam. Sam raised his head, took the pencil he had been chewing from between his lips and walked over to Dean, leaning on the desk. His eyes scanned the article Dean was holding up. Dean tried his hardest to ignore how close Sam was.

"So, lady named Cathy Matherson?"

"Yep. Killed by her husband when she refused to sign the divorce papers so he could go be happy with his mistress, some young red-head he managed to snag." Dean said, sucking his teeth. "Murdered in her house down the road, 1352 Lovers lane." Dean said, squinting. He grinned. "Cute. And morbidly ironic."

"And how frequently has this been happening?"

"Well, cross-referencing and all that shit. Your college-boy days are getting to me, I swear," Dean said, splaying out a bunch of articles in front of him. "About every 11 years."

Sam scoffed with a grin. "Anything significant about that number?"

"Well just so happened that the murder happened just around a very special date for the Matherson sweethearts."

"Eleventh anniversary?"

"Bing-o." Dean said, smiling.

"So we've got everything, right?"

"Except her burial site."

"Of course." Sam said, rolling his eyes. "Cremated?"

"Dunno." Dean said, shrugging. He kicked his legs onto the table, placing his hands behind his neck.

"So we'll just have to check the cemetery?"

"You get better at this every day, Sammy." Dean said, getting up. He walked past Sam, patting his shoulder as he continued to the exit of the library. Sam rolled his eyes at the mess his older brother left behind. He got up, going over to the table to clean up Dean's mess.

As usual.

**XOoOX**

"Dean."

"Hm?" Dean said, cracking open his eyes. He looked over at Sam, who he had given the luxury of driving the Impala tonight. Dean lay reclined in the passenger seat, hands behind his head, feeling the wind brush against his face as it entered through the open windows. It was a chilly night, they had wore heavy jackets, and he was getting a little warm.

"Something's seriously up with you." Sam said, eyes on the road, stating it matter-of-factly.

"We've already been over thi-"

"I'm not asking questions," Sam said, eyes glancing over to Dean for a second. "I'm trying to put pieces of the puzzle together, and _you_ are just going to tell me if I'm wrong."

"What's the big deal anyway? I'll be fine in a few days."

"But what if you're _not_?" Sam asked, frustration in his voice. His grip tightened on the wheel. "I don't know what it is, but whatever it is you refuse to tell me about it, and it seems like you don't even care."

"Of course I care!" Dean said. "But there's nothing I can do about it, so why not let it work itself out."

"What if there _is_ something you can do?" Sam asked, lips taught. Dean didn't have a response for that, so he lay back on the seat, quiet.

"Exactly," Sam said. "Anyway. Back to what I was saying. I'm going to talk, and you're going to tell me if I'm wrong."

Dean didn't respond, but Sam took that as an affirmative.

"So it started after that night at the bar, when you got all liquored up by that sketchy waitress."

"She was _hot_." Dean said in his defense. Sam ignored him.

"You passed out and I carried you inside-"

"You _carried_ me?" Dean asked, a blush rising to his face.

"You blacked out in the front seat. Did you want me to leave you there?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably with the new knowledge. "If it would have conserved my dignity," Dean mumbled.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Anyway. You fell asleep, woke up-"

"With a _pounding_ hangover, by the way."

"That was just the consequence of your bad decisions," Sam stated. "You woke up, saw me, started talking and then just… fell on the ground."

"You make it sound so graceless." Dean said with a smirk. Sam sighed. "And you keep doing-that. That-that thing, like you're trying to talk but something is keeping you from what you want to say. Like it _hurts_ when you try to say something."

"Great deduction skills."

"So I have a theory." Sam said.

"You said no questions!" Dean said, shooting up, looking into his brother's eyes.

"This isn't a question! Theories are _statements_, Dean. Not questions."

Dean rolled his eyes, looking to the road. His eyes scanned over the darkness, watching everything until his gaze finally fell onto something on the side of the road. It was almost nothing, but the moonlight hit it in a way that was different from everything else. For a moment, he couldn't tell what it was, but as they drew closer he saw that it was the shape of a human, slight curves displayed by the moonlight said that it was a woman.

He tapped Sam quickly, watching the figure as they slowly approached it. "Sam. Possible woman in white, two o' clock."

Sam responded quickly, looking in the direct Dean said. He released some of the pressure on the gas pedal, the car slowed as they approached the woman. Soon enough, they sat by her side, and she stood outside the car in the grass, decked out in full wedding dress. Her veil was on, but Dean saw that her blonde hair spilled from underneath it, blue eyes peering into Dean's gaze. She was pale, lips a bluish pink, and she looked so desperately solemn. There were dark rings around her neck, drops of blood splattered across her dress.

"Yeah. Definitely her." Sam said beside him. Dean shook his head in agreement, but when his gaze focused back the woman was no longer there. His eyes went wide and he looked back at Sam, who seemed to have an equally appalled expression settled on his feature. Dean gulped, took a deep breath, and turned his head toward the back seat, his shadow moving along with him.

There she was, as nonchalant as ever, hand in her laps, eyes focused on Dean's. She leant forward a little, lips almost to Dean's face. Instead of warmth though, a chilly cold radiated from her skin.

When she spoke, her voice was light and airy, almost nonexistent, but it rang clearly in both their ears.

"Can you give me a ride?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Sorry for not having updated in FOREVER. This chapter is sort of long, so yay? BUT ANYWHO. Thank you guys for reading if you still are! And please leave comments and tell me how I'm doing! THANKS GUYS! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Um." Dean said, looking to Sam, worry in his eyes. "Sorry sweetheart, can't. We're just passing through." He gave his trademark grin to the dead looking girl in the back.

She stared at him with blank eyes, ocean irises piercing deep. She didn't really move, keeping her hands folded into her lap. Her eyes flicked back and forth between them for a while, but she was silent, body completely still except for the movement of her gaze.

"Just down the street." Her voice came out softly, but it seemed as if her lips barely moved. "Promise it won't take long." She smiled. Dean gave Sam a look that said _Don't you dare touch the wheel_ and Sam nodded in agreement.

"Sorry, Cathy." Sam said, a false chuckle in his voice. "We really have to be on our way."

"Yeah, we gotta-"

The car engine started and the Impala rumbled to life. The headlights turned on, the wheel moving itself as it began to peel slowly down the road. Sam removed his hand from the wheel, watching as it turned of its own accord. His eyes were wide, nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath. His eyes flickered toward Dean's gaze with dangerous intent, and they simultaneously looked back at the woman in white.

"Promise." She said, a reptilian smile curling on her lips.

For a moment a few strands of Sam's hair brushed against his temple, and his heart quickened with the touch. He grimaced, cursing himself, but the woman caught his movement and looked dead at him, grin growing even further.

"Cursed?" She asked, raspy voice floating from her lips. Dean's eyes widened a bit, holding his breath. Sam narrowed his gaze, looking at the woman as she started at him, then back at Dean.

"What?" Sam asked. He pulled his lips into a tight line. "What's she talking about?"

"I have no clu-" Dean attempted to like again, but groaned when he felt his stomach flip, clenching his teeth in pain. Goosebumps rose over his skin and he fell against the window, placing his forehead against the cool glass. He opened his eyes form the pain for a moment, watching the pavement pass under them as the ghost woman behind them controlled the car, they were approaching an unpaved road.

"My husband lied." She whispered. Dean turned back to her, struggling to keep his focus from the way Sam's warmth was radiating from their proximity.

"What does lying have to do with anything?" Sam asked, suspicion deeply ingrained in his voice. Dean gave her a stare that would kill an elephant, but she simply smiled at them as she sat, hair bouncing lightly over her blood spattered dress as they turned onto the unpaved road.

"My husband lied." She repeated. She lowered her grin into a small frown. "And look where that got us."

"Dean what is she talking about?"

"Shut up Sammy."

Cathy turned to Sam and graced him with a small grin. "Your lover here is cursed."

"Lover?" Dean asked.

"Cursed?" Sam interjected. Dean looked at him with angry eyes.

"Dude, _that's_ your issue with what she said?"

"What's your problem? You're _cursed_ and you didn't tell me?"

"Sam she just called us lovers!" Dean yelled. "My _problem_ is that everyone we run into thinks we're gay! And I didn't know!"

Sam glared at him. They looked back at the woman, who looked genuinely surprised. Her eyes were a little wider, mouth slightly open.

"You're not together?"

"Of course we're not. We're brothers." Sam supplied.

The woman seemed to consider this for a moment, a faraway look in her eyes. She turned to Dean, and he shifted a little, uncomfortable with how deeply her gaze pierced.

"You should tell him the truth."

"What truth?" Sam asked.

She ignored him. "_All_ of it." She turned to Sam. "You too."

Sam diverted his eyes when Dean looked at him. "What's she talkin' bout Sammy?" Dean asked. "Seems like I'm not the only one with skeletons in the closet."

"Lies ruin relationships." Cathy stated coldly. She looked beyond them for a while, and the brother looked to trail her gaze. The car had stopped moving a while ago, and they now sat in front of a house, old, decrepit and broken down.

But it had once been pretty; the blue paint on the outside was old and faded, adorned with a thin layer of dirt. There was a modestly sized porch at the front of the house, it held a few pieces of old furniture- chairs and what looked to be a couch- that was dirty with old mold. Nature had long since reclaimed the house, weeds overgrowing the porch, climbing up and reaching high to the small windows next to the door. It was a one story, a small garden on either side of the porch that had long been overrun. The windows showed them a dark house, but the look on Cathy's face was one of nostalgia. Her eyes were wet, faraway and dreamy.

"We lived on Lovers Lane." She said, a small smile on her lips. "I thought it was cute." She sighed and looked to the two boys, her playfulness gone. Her eye were hard now, steeled with something they couldn't quite identify. "I know why you two are here."

"Um." Dean said, smiling clumsily. "We wanted to check out the real estate?"

Cathy gave a small sarcastic smile that soon turned into a frown. "I'll go peacefully."

Sam's eyes went wide and he turned to look at her, eyes filled with suspicion. "You will?" He asked, looking to Dean, who shrugged in response.

"What happened to your usual plan of killing us?" Dean asked. "Had to reschedule?"

"You two are different." She said, slouching. Her ocean eyes were sad, slightly obscured from the veil she wore. "I want to show you something first, though."

"Um, alr-" Dean stopped mid-speech, swishing around to look for the girl. She no longer sat in the back seat, having disappeared directly in front of their eyes.

"Front, Dean." Sam said, pointing out the front window. Dean turned to look, catching gazes with the girl. Her eyes stared into him, beckoning them with a silent command. They looked at each before unlocking the doors and stepping into the cool night air. Sam swallowed his anxiety as he walked forward. Cathy turned from them to face the house, bluish lips drawn into a taut line.

"We had plans, you know." She said almost silently. "I was three months pregnant."

She disappeared again and Sam watched as Dean went to follow her into the house. Sam caught him by the arm though, pulling him closer, face to face.

"Dean," Sam said, breath rising from his lips and into the cool night air. Dean's eyes were bright in the moonlight, small hints of hundreds of thoughts racing through them. Dean relaxed slightly into his touch, but his voice was still heavy.

"Sam." Dean replied back.

"We have to talk about this."

"Now?" Dean asked, narrowing his eyes. "Shouldn't we get rid of this _murderous spirit_ before we get all touchy-feely?"

"What the hell was she talking about?" Sam asked, leaning in closer, trying to keep his voice in whisper mode. Dean recoiled slightly, looking into Sam's eyes, angry and passionate. His heartbeat quickened and his breath caught. His eyes fluttered in a moment of weakness, but he soon composed himself and stared straight back at Sam.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"You're cursed and it has something to do with lies, Dean. What are you not telling me?"

"Sam. Now is _not_ the time."

"Abby." Sam stated, looking at Dean as if he should understand. Dean's mouth moved into a look of confusion and he narrowed her eyes.

"What?"

"Abby, Dean."

"What the hell are you talking about Sam? Right now is not the time." Dean tried to twist his arm from Sam's grip, but Sam just pulled him closer, bringing his face closer to Dean's.

"Abby. The black cat I found when we were living in that skeezy motel."

Dean's face turned to a thoughtful one for a moment before he widened his eyes in realization. "Yeah! Dad was hunting that rugaru in Pennsylvania. What about it? And why the hell does it matter _now_?"

Sam ignored his question. "We stayed in that motel for three weeks. We found Abby the fifth day we were there."

"Samm-"

"_Listen_, Dean." Sam stated. "Close to the end of the third week she up and disappeared, and you told me that she ran away."

"Yeah? And?"

"Did she _really_ run away Dean?"

"What?" Dean asked, unbelieving expression on his face. "Of course she ra-" Dean doubled over and started coughing, holding his stomach as he dry heaved on the ground.

"Hah!" Sam yelled excitedly.

"What the hell are you happy about?" Dean asked from the ground, clenching his teeth as he let the pain run its course.

"I figured it out." Sam said, grin on his lips. "You're cursed so that you can't lie."

"Great deduction skills Sammy." Dean said as he got up, looking at Sam's smile with every particle of hatred he held. "Now can we get on with this?"

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Sam asked, hands on his hips. "It was probably a lot easier than going through whatever the hell _that_ was." He said, gesturing towards the collapse Dean had.

"Because there are circumstances, Sam." Dean stated.

"What circumstances?" Sam asked, curiosity deep in his gaze.

Dean shook his head. "No. No, no, no, _no_. Sam we are _not_ doing this here. Not now."

Sam studied him for a moment. "Okay, I get it."

"Well why don't you share your _goddamn_ revelation with the rest of the class, Sammy, because I sure as hell don't." Dean was getting angry now, clenching his fist.

"You can talk around questions all you want, but you _have_ to answer yes or no questions, right? No open ended answers."

"Sam."

"Why is the sky blue, Dean?" Sam asked, smirking. He walked closer into Dean's space.

"Hell if I know!"

"Okay. Now, _is _the sky blue?"

"Yes." Dean spat out. "What's that going to prove?"

Sam tapped his chin in thought. "You're right. I need something more difficult. Something you wouldn't easily share…" Sam walked in circles around Dean, biting his lip in thought.

Dean rolled his eyes. "_Sam._"

Sam stopped in his circling, looking Dean in the eye with a serious expression. "You ever been with another guy, Dean?"

"Y-Ye-_damnit_-yes…" Dean stuttered, desperately trying to hold back his answer. He clenched his teeth when he failed, glowering at Sam, who held a stupidly happy grin on his face. "What the hell?!"

"This could definitely get _very_ interesting." Sam supplied, sighing. He walked past Dean with an arrogant strut- that Dean found _way _too attractive in the current situation- going to the old door. "But for now, let's focus on this, yeah?"

Dean groaned in annoyance, following his brother as Sam opened the door into the dark house. They stepped slowly, the wooden floors creaking under their weight. They stood at the beginning of a short hallway, rooms on either side. Sam looked around for a moment, looking for the woman in what seemed to be a small living room, and the other room that held a long, old table- a dining room.

"Here." Cathy's voice called. They turned and looked down the hallway, where Cathy stood at the end. Dean pushed past Sam with an annoyed glare, but Sam followed his footsteps. They passed a small kitchen on the way to her willowy form, her blonde hair was still perfectly seated, but there were a few more blood stains on her dress than before. She stood beside a closed door and watched them approach with an empty look in her eyes. She didn't speak for a few moment when they reached her, opting to look between the two.

"Took you long enough." She stated, amusement clear in her voice.

"Sorry." Dean said, pointedly looking at Sam. "Got held up."

"The truth?" Cathy asked, looking between them. They didn't reply, but she seemed to derive her answer from their postures. "Ah," She said, frowning. "A little, but not all. In time."

It was Sam's turn to glare this time, looking at Dean with a heated expression, but Dean ignored him and made sure Sam knew it.

"So, whadya wanna show us? Some fine china?" Dean asked, smirking.

Cathy glared. "Unfortunately, no." She turned to the closed door, and it opened slowly, hinges creaking with the effort. It opened into a rather large room that seemed to be the master bedroom. Dean stepped in, looking around the room. It was mostly undisturbed, there was a large bed on one side of the room, an armoire and a dresser on either wall. A vanity sat on the opposite wall of the bed, a few scattered belongings that were coated over with a fine layer of dust strewn upon it. A window led to a view of the backyard.

Cathy walked to the middle of the room, stepping onto a large green rug that adorned a large stain of what looked to be blood. She looked down at it for a moment, a sad look on her face. She looked at them for a moment before she walked over to the bed, a floral pattern bedspread covered the mattress. She looked down on it, eyeing it with rage clear in her eyes.

"It started with a lie." She stated, looking beyond them. In a moment, the room changed. No more was it the dull, dusty room of before, but it was brought back to life. The wallpaper looked clean and well kept, the wood floors polished, the vanity restocked with makeup and various hairbrushes. Behind them, Dean and Sam heard the door open, and the jumped out of the way of a man and a young woman that entered the room.

The red headed girl clung to the young man, running her hands over his chest with fluttering lashes, green eyes running over his form as she smiled seductively. She wore a black dress, thin legs ending with shiny red heels. The man was smiling with all the chagrin of a man who just landed his next conquest. He had jet black hair that was slicked back, dressed in a suit that fit him well, his arm around the girls waist as he pulled her in closer, grin on his face.

Sam scrunched his nose as he watched the scene. The man led the girl to the bed and began to run his hands all over her as she giggled.

"Wait, wait." She said as he began to unzip her dress, her voice was high and raspy. He looked at her with the eyes of a tiger.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" He asked, a sly drawl in his tone.

"You're not married, are you?" She asked, looking at him with suspicion in his eyes. "This house is pretty big for one person."

"Of course not, love. A man can't have a big house?" He asked, grin on his face. He leaned in close, giving her a deep kiss. "And maybe you can fix that marriage problem."

The girl giggled, and the scene began to fade away back to the broken down room, moonlight pouring in the window.

Sam and Dean didn't exchange words, just watched as Cathy left from by the bed and over to the vanity, her steps dragging as she paid them no mind. She seemed to be reliving the memories with them, a sadness creeping into her eyes. She stood next to the vanity now.

"He kept lying," She stated, lips pursed. "And I foolishly believed him."

Another scene started. They were back in the old, bright room of before, but now a woman that was obviously Cathy sat at the vanity, brush in her hand. She sat with her legs crossed as she looked in the mirror, biting her lips and advertizing her gaze every which way. She was nervous as she bounced one of her legs. She wore a long red dress that fell elegantly on her form, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. Her blue eyes were bright and beautiful; she grabbed a tube of lipstick and began to apply it, a little sloppy in her movements. She accidentally smeared and cursed at herself, grabbing a handkerchief to clean it up.

Someone walked through the door of the room, and it was the man from before. He walked in with a heavy gait, only giving Cathy a glance before continuing to the bed. He looked tired and slightly annoyed with Cathy's presence, but he began to take off his suit jacket when he entered the door.

Cathy looked up quickly when he walked in, and she stood, dusting off imaginary dirt on her dress, fixing her dress. She smiled as she walked over demurely, but he barely glanced, his brown eyes giving her a once-over.

"Harvey, sweetheart, I thought we could go for a night on the town." She said, her smile faltering as her gave her an accusing look.

"I just came back from a long day at the office, Cathy." He said with an irritated tone.

"I know! I know, but-but you've just been so stressed lately," She said, placing her hands on his shoulders, attempting to give him a massage, but he shrugged her off with a groan. She pursed her lips and forced a smile on her face. "I just thought it would be nice."

"Well you don't always think in the best way, do you?" He said aggressively. Cathy recoiled at the comment.

"Well what do you want me to do!" Cathy exclaimed out of the blue. Her lips trembled, and she stood in front of him, fists clenched. She looked odd, all beautiful and dolled-up, but a sadness lingering in her eyes.

"What is your problem?"

"I just-just-" She struggled to make a coherent statement. "Lately I've had some suspicions-"

"You think I'm cheating?" Harvey interjected.

"No! No, it's just- I-"

Harvey groaned and stood going over to the trembling girl and wrapped his arms around her, putting his lips to her forehead. She settled into him, tears running down her face.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry." He said slowly, running his hands through her hair in an attempt to soothe hair. She didn't respond, burying her face deeper into his chest. "It was a good idea, doll, but I'm just so tired. How about we stay at home and just relax?"

She nodded, taking a few deep breaths. She looked up to him, catching his gaze. "An-And you're not…"

"Of course not, love!" He said with a smile, giving her a kiss. "You're the only one I have eyes for."

She smiled and leaned into him once more. The scene faded away, and now the dead Cathy stood in front of them, eyes flicking between the two.

"Wow." Sam said, swallowing. "I'm-I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She said. "All is done, now."

"So you're not going to kill us?" Dean asked. Sam nudged him with narrowed eyes.

"Dean!"

"What? I just want to make sure we're not going to die."

"No." Cathy said, smiling. "I won't kill you."

"But why?" Sam asked. "What makes us so different?"

She smiled at the question and turned, walking to the window near the bed. She stood there for a long while, letting the silence blanket over them.

"Because love is a foolish thing to waste, Sam." She spoke lightly.

Dean felt something tighten in his chest at her words. His stomach did a little flip- Sam _couldn't_ find out, especially not by some ghost that seemed hell bent on releasing his secrets. He looked to Sam, slightly surprised that he wore the same pensive-yet-worried expression he adorned.

He wasn't the only one hiding something.

"Why do you keep talking about love?" Sam asked. Dean groaned, Sam's curiosity was the worst thing _ever_. Cathy looked at him.

"Because a love like this shouldn't be ruined with lies." She said through clenched teeth, anger apparent in her voice. "Because your love is one I could have only hoped for."

"But-but we don't actually _love_ each other," Dean supplied nervously, jostling his feet. "I mean yeah, in the brotherly way, bu-"

"More lies, Dean." She said, shaking her head. "You seem to do that often. You lie to others, to your family, friends. You lie to _Sam_, and you lie to yourself."

She held a thoughtful look on her face as she stared at him, lips slightly parted. "But you can't lie to me, Dean. And now, with this blessing in disguise, you can't lie to Sam anymore either."

Sam was looking at Dean with an intense expression in her eyes, and Dean could barely hold himself down as he struggled to look away.

"Dean." Sam uttered quietly, but the statement held so much more than what it let on. Dean took a deep breath to stop the trembling that had begun to wrack his bones.

"And for you, Sam." Cathy said. "You may not lie, but not everything has fallen from your lips, has it?" She moved towards the rug again, shaking her head with a small grin on her lips.

"What a waste it would be to let something like this fall apart. With a foundation made of lies, when the truth is told, it all begins to crumble."

Slowly, they faded back into the room of before. Harvey and Cathy stood in the middle of the room, on the rug that had yet to receive its bloody decoration. Harvey's hands were clenched, and Cathy's eyes were red and puffy, tears streaming down her face.

"You lied!" She screamed, her voice raw, body trembling. "You lied!"

"Cathy, just sign the papers." Harvey said, anger tinged in his calm voice.

"No." She spoke through clenched teeth. She jabbed his chest with a finger. "_No_."

"Cathy, sweetheart."

"Don't you dare!" She screamed, her hand raised and a smacking sound rose through the air. Harvey stood, face turned, a red handprint swelling onto his face. He made an angry sound and grabbed her arm violently, dragging her to him, enclosing on her personal space.

"You _bitch_." He said, shaking her. She yelped a little, but didn't back off. "Sign the damn papers."

"No." She said, spitting in his face. She spoke through her tears, make-up ruined. "You want that red headed hussy?"

Now it was Harvey's turn to raise his arm and within a moment, Cathy was on the ground, hand raised to her face where had had smacked her. She let out a loud wail and screamed. Harvey stood over her, lips pulled tight.

"Don't call her that."

"That's what she is, isn't she?" Cathy asked through her sobs. "Your flame-headed _whore_. Let me tell you something, _asshole_." Cathy said, looking into his eyes, her blue irises filled with spite and anger.

"The only way you'll get her is over my dead body."

It was surprising how quickly he was on her, hands wrapped around her throat in a tight clench. She began to spasm, hands searching for something to cling on as she hit him, tore his face, his hair, his clothes, whatever she could get her hands on. Horrible gasping sounds rose from his lips, her eyes were wide.

"That could be arranged, _sweetheart_." He said in spite, clenching even tighter. Soon enough, her movements began to slow, and she looked at him with sad eyes as he watched her die. Her eyes fell to half mast and her hands fell limp on her form and her head lolled back.

The scene faded, and Cathy stood at the window, looking into the sky again.

"Lies ruin everything." She said. Dean and Sam looked at each other, hidden messages in their gazes that neither could quite interpret. Dean's lips were slightly apart, heavy with everything he suddenly wanted to tell, and from the look on Sam's face he felt the same. They moved closer to each other, gazes never falling.

"Sammy…" Dean spoke.

"You need my bones, yes?" Cathy asked. They turned to look at her, but she was now nearly standing between them. Sam gave a longing glance to Dean, but quickly shook it off.

"Um, yeah. Please. If you don't mind."

She smiled. "The local cemetery. Near the back."

Dean nodded. "Thanks for this… I mean, not many spirits are so easy to, ya know…"

"Destroy?" She asked. "I wouldn't imagine many things are easy to get rid of. For the longest time all I felt was hatred, but you two," she said, looking between them with a grin. "Are different. And I've grown tired of this pseudo-existence."

"Thank you, Cathy," Sam said. "Now you can rest in peace. We wish you the best of luck in the um… afterlife."

She laughed, and it was light, almost non-existent. "Thank you. But remember what I said." She stated, looking to the blood stained carpet. "Lies ruin everything."

She disappeared with those words, right before their eyes. They didn't bother looking for her, they gathered all the information they had needed, but they stood there for a while, awkwardly shuffling their feet. When they did catch gazes, they held them for a whole, silently exchanging a million thoughts. Sam was about to speak when Dean interrupted him.

"We should go get to um… Cathy. As soon as possible." Dean supplied, voice wavering. Sam's gaze lingered on his lips before he responded.

"Yeah. Yeah, most definitely." Sam's voice was breathy, almost raw.

Dean nodded and turned around, walking out of the room. Sam followed him slowly, the weight of unspoken statements heavy between them as they stepped into the cold moonlight outside of the decrepit house, into the familiar seats of the Impala, and drove down the road toward the cemetery.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! So this is the final chapter of Dirus! YAYYYYY MY FIRST OFFICIAL COMPLETE STORY! Thank you guys for sticking with me and leaving awesome comments and everything that you guys are. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. I actually have another wincest idea I'm fancying that involved dom/sub stuff and I'm kind of excited about it, and hey if you're into Sterek i also have a WIP named Lavender Days! It's not finished yet, but it's still pretty awesome! **

**You guys are great!**

**Like always, leave comments and tell me how I did! :D**

**And now without further adieu!**

* * *

It had taken a while to get to graveyard plot Cathy had mentioned; they scanned rows of graves, the silence between them just as heavy as the presence of death in the atmosphere. They finally found her in one of the last rows in the cemetery, grave wholly unremarkable except for the large ring of brown, dead grass around it. Her gravestone was sickeningly scarce, devoid of flowers or mementos that so many of the other graves held, the name _Cathy Matherson_ the only decoration on the slab of cement.

They set to work immediately, neither of them wishing to address what was itching the back of both of their minds. They dug through the dead grass and into the slightly damp soil, the only sound the occasional huff of exertion. Dean kept his gaze focused downward, trying his best to focus on digging through the earth, not letting his mind wander. He gripped the cold metal handle of the shovel, felt strong resistance of the ground beneath them as he dug in, pulled up with force and threw the dirt to the side, struggling to keep back everything he wanted to say, wanted to confess.

Sam, on the other hand, allowed his mind to wander as they pushed through. He stole prolonged glances at Dean, a tightness in his chest as he observed his brother visibly battle with the thoughts in his mind. Try as he did though, it was hard to concentrate with Dean so close to him, with the slight warmth radiating from his figure. The moon was high and bright in the sky and the moonlight fell softly on Dean's skin, bathing him in an ethereal light that made Sam's chest clench. His lips were parted just so, the vapor of his breath rising from them and disappearing into the air.

"Dean," Sam said when he had had enough of watching him, the need to figure this out far outweighing the current task. Dean stopped shoveling, turning to him, those beautiful eyes so luminescent in the moonlight, full of exhaust and desperation and tiredness.

"Sammy, please," Dean's voice was so desperate, somewhere between a beg and a statement. "Later, ok? I promise. Once we get back to the motel. Can we finish this first?" The look Dean gave him was sullen, troubled. They stared at each other for a while, until Sam nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Yeah, fine."

Dean nodded, lips pursed, and went back to digging. Sam allowed his gaze to linger a little longer before he followed suit.

**XOoOX**

Soon enough they had dug into Cathy's coffin and found her decrepit skeleton lying inside, dressed in a wedding gown. Sam took a moment to pray for her in his head before the salted the grave and lit the match, throwing it in. The fire took only a moment to light, but soon it grew, reaching up high out of the grave, whispery fingers grasping for the sky. Dean nodded silently and moved to pick up all they had brought but Sam stood, watching Dean's form by the light of the fire, forming all the things he would say to him once they were alone.

They waited for the fire to die down a little before shoveling the dirt back onto the remaining flames, effectively suffocating them. Once the grave had been re-filled, there something easier about the air around them. It was less heavy, less suffocating then it was before, the obvious effect of Cathy's moving on. Sam picked up the duffel and Dean grabbed the shovels and they walked back to the Impala.

**XOoOX**

The car ride was far too quiet for Sam to be comfortable.

**XOoOX**

Dean walked slowly to the door behind Sam, eyes glued to his brother's hair as it whisked behind him. His chest was heavy, stomach doing kick flips and handstands in his abdomen, a cold chill of Goosebumps running over his skin. The anxiety of the coming conversation made his blood run cold- there was no way they weren't talking about this, Sam was much too touchy-feely to allow him to leave before they did.

But no, it wasn't Sam he was mad at. It wasn't Sam who had brought this on them, it was _him_. Everything was his fault, he had developed this stupid, gay, _wrong_ crush- he denied that it was anything more than that- on his fucking _brother_ for Christ sakes! It all would have been fine, he could have lived with it, denied it, covered it up under the smiles and jokes like he so often did, but now it was right there in front of him. He was stuck with this damn curse so he couldn't even lie about it and Sam was way too smart to not ask and then came along Cathy with her _stupid_ love talk and her hints and how she fucking knew _everything_, Dean had no idea.

He clenched his hands into fist, nails digging into his skin, eliciting the slightest of pain.

That was okay, Dean deserved it. Deserved it for what he did, what he was about to do. They had already been through so much, Sam already had enough problems with all the shit Lucifer was pulling. He was supposed to protect Sam, make sure he was okay, but now he was fucking up _again_ and this was probably going to tear them apart for good because there was no way Sam would be okay and then he would really be alone, without anyone. Without Sam.

His blood felt like it was ice running through his veins, he was biting his lower lips hard enough to draw blood. He had long since stopped paying attention to walking, allowing his body to autopilot as he was pulled into the recesses of his mind.

"Dean?" That was Sam's voice, and _fuck_, Sam must see him like this, must see him being a complete and utter wreck, but he couldn't ignore him, hell if he was about to ruin everything might as well do it in stride. He tore his gaze away from the wet ground and looked up at Sam, whose eyes were so full of worry and sadness that it almost broke Dean's heart. Sam eyed him for a moment, his lips going into a tight frown before he took a deep breath and turned to unlock the door to their room.

He followed him in, brushing past him as Sam flicked on the lights. He made his way towards the bathroom, maybe he could prolong this a little more-

"No, Dean." He felt a hand pull at his arm, he was swung around and in a moment his face was pressed against what must have been Sam's chest. It was strong and warm and it smelled of outside and dirt and rain, he allowed himself to melt into his brother's embrace before he struggled to push away.

"Lemme go, Sammy." He ordered, but his voice betrayed him, not even he was convinced of his statement.

"Dean, just. Please, stop fighting okay?" One of Sam's arms rose to the back of Dean's head and began to rub softly in his hair, the other was wrapped around him, pulling him tighter against Sam's body as he struggled. "Please stop fighting me."

The comfort Dean felt from Sam's ministrations only further intensified his anger at himself but against his will he quelled at the touch and stopped pushing away, allowing Sam to massage his head as he buried himself in the darkness that was his brother's chest. He breathed in, taking in the scent he was so heavily encase in. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around his little brother's form and pulled Sam closer. He felt himself began to shake, tears stung at his eyes as he began to sob muffled cries into Sam's chest. His hands were clenched tight into the back of Sam's shirt, but the larger man's hand continued to rub soothing circles into his hair. He let all the anger, frustration, desperation, fear, sadness and the cocktail of emotions pour into his tears as he cried against Sam, chest heaving with uneven breaths. He heard the soft beat of Sam's heart and he focused on it as his realization that was helplessly in love with his younger brother broke through the cloud in his mind.

He didn't know why Sam hadn't moved, hadn't pushed him away and told him to shut up, but he wasn't going to complain about it. This, this right here was almost perfect, having Sam hold him in his arms, comfort him with the soothing strokes of his hands in his hair.

Eventually, the flood of tears began to wane, the occasional hiccup rising from Dean's chest. His mouth was dry and he was emotionally and physically exhausted, but he didn't want to leave Sam's warmth, didn't want to leave his arms. He moved to press his ear against Sam's chest to better listen to his heartbeat, willing his own to synchronize with it. Sam's hands were still stroking through his hair, and his knees were a little weak.

"Let's go sit down." Sam's voice was tender, so sweet it almost made Dean shudder. Regrettably, Sam removed his hand from Dean's hair, but lowered his palm to the small of Dean's back, leading him to one of the beds. Sam sat down and Dean sat next to him, originally planning to sit as far away as he could get away with, but Sam didn't allow it. He pulled Dean closer, thigh to thigh, one arm wrapped around Dean's waist, the other coming to take his face in his hands, turning his head to gaze into Sam's eyes, but Dean quickly averted his eyes.

"Dean." Sam said in a tone that made him look directly into Sam's eyes again. "I need you to tell me what's going on."

"Sam." Dean said in something that was supposed to be a protest, but came out as a weak plea, his voice rough and horse from the tears.

"_Please_, Dean. I need to know."

Dean gulped and licked his lips, hanging his head in his hands, aware of the hand rubbing circles into his back. If he had any more tears to cry he would have, but his eyes were sore. He voice was low, quiet and desperate when he spoke.

"I'm so sorry Sammy."

"For what?"

"Everything."

"Dean, you haven't done anything."

"I lied to you!" he screamed, recoiling slightly from the ache it caused his throat. Sam gave him a look.

"I highly doubt the fact that you lied to me would make you _cry_, Dean." Sam said, a searching look in his eyes as he gazed into Dean's mind. "That's not the whole story, is it?"

"No." Dean blurted out, not bothering to fight the curse. He was getting tired of it.

"Tell me all of it."

"I can't, Sam."

"Why?"

"Because If I do you'll-" Dean stopped himself to let out an annoyed sound, afraid to voice his fears. "…you'll leave."

Sam once again took Dean's face in his hand and forced eye contact. He held a serious expression on his face, lips pulled into a thin line.

"I would _never_ leave you Dean."

"You don't know tha-"

"Under any circumstances. _Ever_."

"This is different from any normal circumstance, Sam! This is… this-this is wrong and twisted and disgusting and you'd leave in the blink of an eye. If you didn't leave you'd hate me or hurt me or-or-or-"

"Dean, I _won't_." Sam said, tenderness in his eyes. "I won't ever leave you Dean, no matter what. Absolutely _nothing_ would make me do that, and I think I've sacrificed enough for you to show that."

Dean was about to protest, but he found a truth rang in Sam's words. They both had sacrificed their _lives _for each other; the bond between them was something nearly unbreakable.

"Dean, please?" Sam's voice brought Dean back to earth, and he knew Sam was asking for the truth, and honestly Dean was growing tired of deflecting everything, he was running out of excuses, out of loopholes.

He sighed, the heaviness in his chest never ceasing to grow heavier. He stared into Sam's eyes, hoping that everything would be okay.

Even though it wouldn't.

"I'm…" Dean took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I'm in love with you, Sam."

He expected a punch, or a yell, or something violent and angry, but nothing came. He stared into the darkness that was his eyelids for a while, waiting. He opened his eyes to fall into his brother's gaze, eyes slightly wider, lips parted just so.

"Dean…" Sam said in an almost reverent whisper. "Is that… is that true?"

"Can't really lie right now, Sam." Dean stated, a hint of a grin rising on his lips. Sam's expression didn't change, he didn't back away or make a motion of refusal, simply stared into Dean's eyes.

"How long?" Sam asked.

"Uh." Dean was a little taken aback; he had been expecting anger and shouts, not questions. "Started at some point after you hit your growth spurt, I think. Teenage years were good to you."

Sam laughed, which was _completely_ unexpected. He laughed, heavy and full, a smile creeping on his lips.

"That's it?" Sam asked, a hint of disbelief in his eyes. Dean narrowed his gaze.

"What do you mean, that's it, Sam? I just confessed my love for my _brother_ and you're not even the least bit worried? Shouldn't you be disgusted?"

Sam stopped the chuckled that rumbled from his chest, shaking his head. He moved the hand holding Dean's face to the back of his neck, squeezing slightly. Dean watched as Sam lowered, closer and closer, pulse quickening until he finally felt the smooth touch of Sam's lips against his.

**XOoOX**

He made sure the first kiss wasn't anything dramatic, made sure it was soft and chaste- if Dean wanted to back away he had the chance, but he had a feeling that wouldn't be the case.

Dean's confession had lifted the weight of the world from his shoulders, and now, his lips pressed against his older brother's, this awesome. But Dean had a tendency to distance himself from anything he wanted, so he pulled away from Sam's lips with a confused look in his eyes.

"Sam?" Dean asked cautiously. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you, dumbass." He replied with a smirk, leaning down to catch Dean's lips again. They were pillow soft, just as he imagined. For a moment he just stilled, mesmerized in the lushness of Dean's perfect lips, but when he felt him try to get away again he hurried to move his mouth against Dean's.

He had to cut off Dean's thinking before it ruined everything.

He moved slowly, enjoying the fullness of his brother's mouth, trying to coax Dean into responding. He draped his arm around Dean's waist and pulled him closer, hand going to his head so he could angle Dean's face the way he wanted. With his movements Dean came back to life and slowly but surely began to kiss him back, a soft mewl rising from his throat. Sam gripped Dean's hair and pulled slightly and Dean moaned as he pushed against Sam's lips with his own. Dean's hands rose to Sam's shirt and clenched tightly in the fabric as their hot breath fell on each other's lips as they moved closer in to each other.

"Sammy…" Dean said breathlessly when they pulled back. "We can't…"

"Dean. Shut up and let yourself have this." Sam said as he attacked his brother's mouth again. Dean's hands began to explore Sam's body as he moaned into the kiss. His fingers danced over Sam's chest and down his torso, stopping at each one of his abs, rubbing every muscle he could find. Sam's heart was already pounding as his brothers touches set his skin aflame, his tongue darted out to lick at Dean's lips and his bottom lips between his teeth and nibbled and sucked on it. Dean moaned and opened his mouth to let Sam's impatient tongue inside.

_God_ it was amazing. Dean's mouth was hot and wet, Sam licked everything he could find, Dean's teeth and tongue, savoring the flavor. True to his personality, soft moans and mewls fell from Dean's lips as Sam's tongue mapped out his mouth, dancing with Dean's own. The air was getting hot and he could feel the rush of Dean's pulse at the back of his neck under his fingertips. His brother's hands were getting more adventurous, toying with his nipples through the shirt. Sam groaned and Dean nibbled at his lip, fingers going under the hem of his shirt and meeting bare skin. Sam let his tongue have a few more satisfying swipes before he pulled away, an annoyed sounds coming from Dean.

He let out a small chucked that turned into a moan when Dean began rubbing his nipples between his fingers. He lowered his head and kissed Dean's neck, licking over the skin there, feeling the _thudthudthud_ of his pulse when he traced over Dean's jugular with his tongue. Dean was moaning louder now, Sam bit into the skin on Dean's neck and the older man arched into it bending his neck to give Sam more. He sucked into the bite, marking his neck with fervor. Dean's hands rand down his torso and onto his thighs, dancing dangerously close to Sam's crotch, where his no hard cock lay waiting under his deans. He sucked another hickey onto Dean's neck and brought one of his hands to press down onto Dean's dick through his jeans, rubbing the hardness he found there.

Dean took a sharp intake of air and groaned, rubbing into the delicious friction. They continued like that for a while, Sam successfully littering Dean's neck with bruises, and Dean teasing with his careful touches around his dick.

"Sammy, please." Dean breathed out as he rubbed up into Sam's palm. Sam smiled and brought his lips back to Dean's, claiming his mouth for a few moments more before he pulled back, looking at the expression on his brothers lips. His eyes were blow wide with arousal, lips red and puffy from Sam's assault on them, hair an absolute mess from how Sam had been tugging on it. He was sure he didn't look much more composed.

Sam smiled and bent to place feather light kisses up Dean's jaw, working up to nibble and lick at Dean's ears, sucking on the sensitive skin behind the lobe that made Dean keen oh-so-deliciously.

"_Please_." Dean said, his voice ragged and rough.

"Tell me what you want Dean. I promise I'll give it to you. Whatever you want." He stated as he nibbled on an earlobe.

"I wan-_fuck_- I want you Sam. _Dammit_ I want you. Always have."

Sam moaned heavy at the confession and pulled back to kiss him quick, deep and dirty as he pushed Dean back on the bed. They crawled up until Dean's head hit the headboard, Sam hovering over him. They kissed, tongues battling between them before Sam's mouth worked its way down to Dean's collar bone. They both still wore their jeans, and Sam brought down his hips to Dean's, grinding against him. The friction between them made Sam's eyes roll back as he placed as many kisses as he could down Dean's body. Dean's hissed and began to rock up to rub his clothed cock against Sam's, desperate for more of the sinful pleasure.

Sam was leaking in his boxers, but he found that he didn't completely care as he rubbed against his brother, placing kisses over him, bending down to suck harshly on his nipples. Dean screamed, his vocalism beginning to advance, now instead of the constant spew of moans, statements at Sam's expertise fell from his lips. A steady stream of _fuckyes_ and _ohmygod_ and _sohard_ and Sam's personal favorite _sammyfuckyoureamazing_ littered the air. The exclamations only further encouraged Sam as he worked his brother into a mess, bodied rocking together, dicks rubbing between them, Dean's fingers locked into Sam's hair, tugging and pulling as if it was his only lifeline to the real world.

Sam pulled his brothers legs around his waist and ground harder into him, going up to kiss Dean deeply. He tongue fucked Dean's mouth, nibbling on his lips and sucking on his tongue.

"God, Dean, you're so fucking beautiful."

Dean only moaned in response as Sam rubbed one of his nipples.

"Wanted you for so long, Dean. So _fucking_ long." Sam accentuated his statement with a particularly hard grind that left Dean breathless, eyes half mast. Sam wasn't entirely sure Dean was paying attention, he seemed as if he was in another world entirely, so he bent down to his ear and nibbled for a few moments.

"Now you're all mine." Dean made a sound of weak agreement as he thrust up helplessly. Sam chuckled.

"Look at how badly you want me, Dean." Sam stopped thrusting and Dean made an annoyed sound and rose his hips upward, seeking more of the friction. Sam smiled and relented, resuming his grinding, Dean let out a satisfied.

"Sammy, _damn_…"

"You said you've been with guys before, right?" Sam knew in the back of his mind it was futile to ask Dean anything, as he was lost in pleasure, but he couldn't help it.

"So what was it, huh? Were you getting fucked? Were you bent over, taking it from behind? I can only imagine you on your hands and knees, a big dick ramming into your ass."

Dean moaned and shuddered.

"I want that Dean, I want to fuck you. I wanna fuck you until you _break_ Dean, until you can't even speak. Until you can't think, all you can feel is my cock in your ass."

Dean's hands shot to Sam's hair and pulled him down against his lips, kissing him for a moment.

"Please, Sammy…" he whispered out, eyes barely open. Sam figured the curse was allowing him to lose himself more easily, so he played along.

"Pleas what, Dean?"

"_Fuck me._"

Sam couldn't completely disagree with that sentiment, while the grinding was good, it was getting old. He smiled.

"We'll get to that. A few things first."

Sam pulled up and tugged off his shirt, helping Dean pull out of his. He gave a quick grind to Dean's crotch before he tugged at Dean's jeans, pulling them off. He kissed down Dean's body, licking over his abs, down to the light happy trail that started from his navel. Sam kept Dean's hips in check by pushing them down to the bed, almost hard enough to leave bruises, but Dean didn't seem to care.

Sam nosed his away along the elastic of Dean's briefs, drawing down to mouth of the tent in the underwear. He dragged his lips over Dean's length, earning a satisfied groan and a stifled movement of pitched hips. There was an obvious wet spot where the tip of Dean's dick was. Sam gave it an experimental lick, running his tongue from the tip and down the length of the shaft. Dean took in a gasp of air, ending it with a groan.

"_Ohmygod_ please, Sam, please, I need you so bad…"

"Shh." Sam said, licking Dean's balls over his underwear. "I know, baby."

He placed a few more feather light kisses and tugged Dean's underwear down slowly until his dick popped up and hit Dean's stomach with a barely audible smack. Sam spent no time nosing the slight brush of pubes, taking in the heady scent of his brother's sex. He lowered his mouth, taking one of the ball into his lips and giving it a gentle suck. He gave the other the same treatment before ignoring the main attraction to give his attention to the sensitive skin on the inside of Dean's thighs. He gave light licks here and there, biting and kissing wherever he could.

Dean was shaking by now, shuddering with pleasure and anticipation.

"Sammy…" His voice was so weak, raw with pleasure, hands gripped tight in Sam's hair.

"Shh, Dean. I got you." Sam said comfortingly.

He licked his way back to Dean's dick, letting his tongue trail up the soft skin of the shaft. Dean groaned heavily. Sam gave the shaft a few more licks and kisses before sucking his way up to the head, giving a tentative swipe to the underside of it. Even with his hips held down, Dean arched into the feeling with a barely audible scream. Sam grinned and sucked the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip before going down, taking the majority of his brother's cock into his mouth. Dean's panting was getting heavier, but Sam continued. He twisted his head as he sucked, letting his tongue work every inch he could reach as his hands fondled Dean's balls. Without even looking he could tell Dean was a wreck, every dirty statement and lewd moan that fell from his lips was music to Sam's ears. He continued for a while, until Dean's breaths came quick, and he could feel his balls tightening. He pulled away with a satisfied grin as he looked into Dean's face, whose eyes were half open, but gaze gone far away.

Sam took the back of Dean's knees and raised them up, and now Dean's ass was in the air, round cheeks spread open to revealing his small, pink hole. Dean's eyes had become aware with the movement, and he met Sam's gaze. Sam grinned mischievously and lowered his mouth, allowing his tongue to lick up between Dean's split cheeks. Dean let out a particularly loud moan and Sam did it again, flicking his tongue over the furled thing. He tongued and licked, sucking on Dean's asshole as he worked his brother into oblivion. He pushed the tip of his tongue inside Dean's ass, effectively tongue fucking him. He circled around, watching as it clenched in anticipation. He fantasized about what it would be like once he was buried into Dean's heat, clenching around him as he fucked his brother into the mattress. He moaned as he tongued him open. Sam did that for a while, Dean shaking with pleasure all the while, eyes closed and mouth open, panting ragged breaths.

By the time he let Dean's ass lower to the bed, his hole was thoroughly wet and open. Sam took a moment to rip off his jeans and underwear, thick cock red and dripping pre-cum. He saw Dean's eyes widen a bit and he licked his lips.

Sam chuckled and bent down to kiss him, letting Dean taste himself as he let his tongue roam in Dean's mouth.

"God, you're amazing," Sam breathed. "So fucking perfect. Beautiful. Incredible."

"Sammy, fuck me, please, I need it…" Dean begged.

"I will baby, just let me open you up a bit more. I've got a big dick, don't wanna hurt you." He brought up three fingers to Dean's mouth, who happily accepted them. Sam moaned when he felt Dean's tongue work over and between his fingers, sucking as if it was an actual dick. He wanted to fuck those pretty lips, but he had time for that later.

He pulled them out when he deemed them wet enough. He lay on his side so he could watch Dean's face as he fingered him and brought two digits down to his brother's hole. He teased for a moment, circling it before dipping the two in. Dean bit his lip as he made an annoyed yet horny sound. He groaned as they went in effortlessly, his hole loose from the thorough attention he had given with his tongue.

Dean's sharp intake of breath pushed him on further into the tight heat of his hole, scissoring him open, rubbing around the wall of muscle. Dean groaned as Sam pulled out his fingers and thrust back in, repeatedly finger fucking him. Sam bit his lips and crooked his fingers a bit, going a bit deeper, rubbing and searching for-

Dean's loud scream was filled with pleasure as he rocked down onto Sam's fingers, eyes wide and mouth wider. With renewed vigor Sam fingered Dean open, soon adding in a third to join the party. He paid attention to Dean's cock, it was read and leaking, the head a little blue. Soon enough Sam didn't have to move his hand, Dean was fucking into the fingers himself, grinding down and rolling his hips as he searched for his own pleasure.

Sam gave himself a quick tug, shuddering before he got to his knees, getting between Dean's legs and bringing up his legs to rest on his shoulders. He pressed the tip of his dick to Dean's hole and paused for a moment, waiting.

"Sammy, c'mon, _please_, fuck me…"

That was Sam's cue. He pushed in and Dean's hole accepted him almost effortlessly. Dean and Sam let out twin groans of pleasure as his walls clenched around Sam's dick.

"God Dean you're so fucking _hot_, so tight, so amazing…"

Sam stilled to give Dean a few moments of adjustment, but Dean was already rocking his hips. Sam abandoned the plan and began to thrust, sinking deeper into his brother's hole before he pulled out, only to sink back in again. The sensation was amazing, the soft muscles of Dean's ass pulling at him as he dug into the warmth, and from the look on Dean's face it was none the less fantastic for him.

"Oh my God, please, Sam, fuck me harder, God you're so fucking big…"

"Jesus, Dean, you're amazing, so good for me, baby, gonna fuck you so good, I promise…"

"Please, Sammy, harder, faster, I need it, I need you, I can't- please, Sammy, please…"

Soon they lost themselves in the throes of their passion. Sam pushed Dean's legs to wrap around his waist so he could lean down and delve his tongue into Dean's mouth, capturing every spilled moan as he pounded his brother into the mattress with quick, hard, thrusts. Dean arched to meet every push Sam gave, hands pulling on Sam's hair as he dug into him, cock repeatedly hitting Dean's prostate, driving him up the wall. Sam could swear he had never had sex this good, and that's because it was with _Dean_, his amazing, beautiful, perfect brother that didn't deserve all the shit that happened to him. But Sam was here now, would try and take away all the pain as much as he could, would be everything for Dean because Dean was everything for _him_.

He knew he wouldn't last long, and he was dangerously close, could feel the warm coil of pressure building in his stomach, in his balls. He let up on kissing Dean to reach between them, grabbing Dean's cock where it was slick with pre-cum. Dean groaned as Sam jerked him, particularly hard thrusts digging into his ass.

"Sammy, I'm gonna- I'm, please, Sam, yes, _ ohfuckyes_, Sam- I'm about to-"

Dean's eyes opened wide, letting out a quiet scream as his back arched upward, body convulsing as he shot into Sam's hands, cum spraying all over his fingers as he fucked Dean through his orgasm. The sight was beautiful, and Sam felt himself about to go over the edge. He buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck, mouthing at the sweat there.

"So good, Dean. So good for me, baby. I love you so fucking much, be with you forever. I love you Dean, God I-I-"

Sam moaned as he came, spilling his hot seed into Dean's hole, who whimpered in response. Deans hands were stroking his hair as he came, his body shuddering with pleasure as he shot his last few loads into Dean's body. His knees went weak and he lowered them, body falling on top of Dean's form as he tried to recover from the devastating orgasm. He panted harshly, skin red with exertion, and he could hear Dean taking in deep breaths of air.

For a while they lay there, struggling to recalibrate, until their breaths evened out and Dean finally felt the huge weight of Sam on him.

"Dude… you're killing me you sasquatch…"

Sam chuckled on the skin by Dean's ear. He pulled out slowly, pushed himself up with some effort and rolled over, looking up at the ceiling.

They were quiet for a while, a sort of awkward silence between them.

"So…" Dean said, breaking the silence. "You love me, huh?"

Sam quirked an eyebrow and rolled onto his side, placing soft kiss on Dean's lips.

"More than you'll ever know."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Now you gotta go and say mushy crap like that. Thanks."

Sam laughed at his brother and pulled him close. He un-tucked the bed spread and maneuvered them beneath it, his chest to Dean's back as he curled into the big spoon around him. He lay his cheek on Dean's, arms wrapped possessively around his waist, large hand splayed across his stomach.

"You don't want to shower?" Dean asked, looking at him with a smirk. Sam made a grunt of annoyance.

"Morning. Now, sleep."

"Whatever, caveman." Dean chuckled, reaching up to turn off the lamp near the bed. The room fell into a darkness and they lay there for a while, soft breaths rising and falling.

"Sam?" Dean asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"This… Us. This is okay right? I don-"

"Stop doubting, Dean." Sam said, placing a kiss on Dean's cheek. "We deserve to have this. I love you, you love me, it's as simple as that."

"So…"

"I won't ever leave Dean, like it or not you're stuck with me forever."

He felt Dean smile beneath him. "So, Cathy was right?"

"Guess so."

"Hey, what about the curse?"

Sam smiled. "Um. We'll fix that. Eventually."

"Eventually?"

"I got a few more questions…"

"Sam!"

"Shh…" Sam said, pulling Dean closer and nuzzling, placing a kiss to the back of his neck. "Go to sleep, baby."

"Whatever. And don't call me that." Dean breathed out. Eventually the quiet engulfed them, and Sam was on the verge of falling asleep, the warmth from their tired forms melting into each others, a sleepy haze washing over them.

"Sam?" Dean asked groggily.

"Hm?"

"…Love you."

Sam smiled and placed another kiss against Dean's neck. "Love you too, baby."


End file.
